God Rest Ye Merry Gentleman
by Queen Edmund Pevensie
Summary: Klaus Mikaelson - biggest, baddest vampire of all time. Even he can be saved.
1. O Come, All Ye Faithful

_December 2010_

"What are you up to, little wolf?" Klaus breathes into Hayley's ear, plucking her away from the crowd, pulling her roughly to stand in front of him, to look into his eyes. She scowls venomously up at him, and Klaus scowls back in irritation. She doesn't have the good sense to be afraid of him, and it will be the death of her.

"What makes you think I'm up to something?" she answers, pulling herself out of his vice grip. She seems innocent enough, if a little rough around the edges. Someone who has had to look out for herself all her life, not afraid to do what she has to do to stay alive. Klaus might admire her, if he wasn't sure she's been up to something with his hybrids for the last month. "Maybe if you weren't so g _rabby,"_ she snarls. "You wouldn't have to worry about random wolf-girls at a Christmas party."

"I know you're up to something, love," Klaus insists. "Why don't you just tell me what it is and then we can all be on our way?"

Hayley smirks a little and casts a sly look over her shoulder where he's sure the hybrids are lurking. Klaus' stomach drops.

"What have you done?" he growls, voice low, menacing. Even his siblings quake in fear at the sound of his voice. Not Hayley. Her smiles morphs into a snarl that matches Klaus' voice.

"I haven't done anything," she bites. "Why don't you ask your hybrids? And while you're at it, rot in hell," she huffs, and pushes past him, knocking his shoulder roughly.

Rattled, Klaus stares as Stefan approaches. It's clear he's overheard, or at least, has an idea. No trying to cover it up. "She doesn't like me much," he explains. Stefan huffs a laugh. "Where have you been?"

"Around," Stefan offers as an answer.

"I know that you're up to something," Klaus tells him. He's a thousand years old, he can't imagine why these children keep thinking that they can trick him into complacence, no matter how much he enjoys Caroline's company.

"I saw your letters," Stefan counters. Offering Klaus enough information to surmise that he and the others were snooping, in search of the sword, in search of the cure without him. Klaus chews on the inside of his cheek, disarmed by Stefan's admission, surprised by the hybrid who suddenly appears behind him. Hayley was right. The hybrids are planning something. "Have a few pen pals over the centuries?"

"Is it any different than writing the name of my victims on a wall, like you did?" Klaus goads. "Ripper." He smiles when Stefan looks away in shame.

Klaus stalks past Stefan, anger rolling in the pit of his stomach. Something else too. Fear, though not for his own life. In a matter of minutes, Klaus knows his hybrids will be dead, all his work for nothing. For Stefan and his friends to have betrayed him yet again, when he has shown himself to be a good ally.

Grinding his teeth, Klaus turns around to face Stefan before he leaves. He doesn't owe Stefan an explanation. He doesn't owe anyone anything. "Loneliness," he says anyway. "That's why you and I memorialize our dead." Maybe Stefan will understand, at least. "The brief moment where we literally hold their life in our hands, before we rip it all away and we're left with…nothing." His jaw is clenched so tight it hurts. Stefan is watching him incredulously, scared, as they always are, as everyone is when they see him. "So collecting their letters or writing their names on the wall, it's a reminder. That in the end, we are left utterly and infinitely alone."

His hybrid is waiting to lead him to their deaths behind him and turns away from Stefan with enough flourish to warn him if he tries anything more, he'll kill him and Elena. The cure is more trouble than it's worth, his hybrids a mere distraction from the vacuum left by his siblings' disappointment – abandonment – and betrayal. In the end, the hybrids, creatures who were supposed to be loyal to him always, supernaturally loyal to him, turned away from him too.

* * *

 **A/N: Hello! Welcome to this year's advent calendar. If you've seen me do these before, you might remember that there's usually four themes I like to follow for each week (in order - Hope, Love, Joy, Peace), but hmm, while all four of these stories certainly have to do with Hope, this one is mysteriously lacking, since it uhh clearly takes place during the Christmas episode of season four of The Vampire Diaries instead of The Originals. Hope? Who?**

 **Listen, I have a LOT of thoughts about the finale of the originals, and a lot of thoughts about the originals as a whole, probably more than it warrants, but the way I see the originals is structured a lot like this; klaus moving towards a place where he can find peace. and so what's a better advent calendar during this time of year than showing klaus moving towards a place where he can find peace - with the aid of a miracle birth...an impossible baby. the key to his Salvation, if you will.**

 **So thanks for reading, and uhh, Merry Christmas**

 **A/N2: Also! For the next two I just had to guess when Christmas is made especially difficult bc of the fact that Hayley was pregnant for twelve months. Get it together.**


	2. O Holy Night

**A/N: 1x08/1x09: Because Wow (as in, on the fence about to for about 8 episodes four years ago watching it for the first time, and then WOW was i no longer on the fence suddenly). Also I wrote this in back in July/August, reworked for OG appreciation (so it might be on my tumblr - wontbepublished - but its gonna be posted a second time if it is lol)**

* * *

 _December 2011_

Rebekah meets him outside, Hayley standing a few feet behind him. All Elijah wants to do is shower, change, somehow impress upon Niklaus that he did not mean anything by the so-called accusations that were made in the bayou, but dread fills his heart when he sees Rebekah standing on the porch, her arms folded in front of her, fear in her eyes.

"I've done something, Elijah," she says, her voice low, maybe so Niklaus will not hear them, maybe because it is all she can manage.

Elijah closes the distance between them, swiftly, laying his hands on her shoulders. Hayley is only a few steps behind him. He matches her tone when he says, "What is it, Rebekah? What did you do?" It's not an accusation.

Rebekah chokes out a single sob before telling Elijah how she lured Klaus to the compound, how she and Marcel planned to bury Klaus in the home Marcel had started to build for the two of them. Elijah glances up to see Niklaus peeking out of the upstairs window, glowering down at them, the three of them.

"I'm sorry, Elijah," Rebekah chokes. "I've made it worse. I just – I couldn't take him any longer." One tear is gliding down her face, the one that will be forever young – forever eighteen and trusting of her older brothers, that wants to love Niklaus no matter what he does to her, to them.

Elijah sighs and wipes the tear from her cheek. "We will face him together," Elijah promises, his voice low enough that even hybrid ears would have trouble hearing. "Go upstairs, I'll be right behind you." He presses a kiss to her forehead, and watches her takeoff up the stairs where Klaus begins the tirade he has no doubt been planning all morning.

Elijah sighs again and turns to Hayley. "I would wait out here, if I were you," he says, trying on a smile, seeing if Hayley buys the little bit of levity he is trying to convey. "It may get ugly." Hayley grunts and throws herself onto the front step. She doesn't say anything snarky in response; she's seen too much, too closely into their lives with Niklaus to fall for it. She knows them all too well now. How dark, how grim her future must look.

When he gets to his siblings, Klaus already is poised to dagger Rebekah again, his voice desperate, the dagger pointed at her face. She cannot escape his hold, and she is too scared to even try.

"Niklaus, don't you dare," Elijah tries, approaching his brother the way he would a wild animal. He tries, tries so hard, to be firm with his brother, to guide him into making the right choices, to protect him, at all costs, always.

Klaus reacts the way Elijah expected him to, backing away from Elijah, brandishing the dagger at him, at Rebekah. "Or perhaps it should be you, brother," he says, his eyes wild, his voice rising like he's trying not to yell, to snarl. Klaus backs up towards the window, Rebekah slinks behind Elijah, terrified. Elijah can manage fear, even if Niklaus does seem to be adamant on daggering at least one of them. Let it be him. He can't bear for Hayley to be dragged into the middle of his brother's delusions. He can't bear for Klaus to suffer if he makes Rebekah suffer again. "Stealing my child away with every fawning moment of tenderness you show to Hayley."

Hayley, outside, sulking on the front step. Elijah could almost laugh, if he could find a single ounce of humor in the cornered look in his brother's eyes. As if Hayley asked for any of this. "This has nothing to do with Hayley," Elijah says. This is a warning. He will not stand by and let Niklaus harm her.

"This has everything to do with her!" he shouts, before the words have even had time to settle in the air between them. Rebekah gasps softly behind him, and the room goes deadly quiet. As it always does when Niklaus loses his grip slightly. He's still brandishing the dagger, and Elijah can feel Rebekah growing bolder behind him. He hopes she and Klaus can stop from arguing for long enough that Elijah can keep Klaus from doing anything he regrets, but Rebekah is almost as impulsive and stubborn and Niklaus – almost as likely to act out of hurt and fear as he is, almost as likely to strike where it hurts. If Klaus notices his sister gearing up to fight him, he doesn't say anything, only continues. Elijah will take it, as long as it is directed at him, and not a Rebekah. Not at Hayley. "She's adored you," he says, his voice barely more than a whine. "Since she's arrived. And now my child," he says voice rising with every word, tears welling up in his eyes. " _My blood_ , will grow up to call you father!"

Rebekah steps out from behind Elijah, brandishing this new information – this new puzzle of Niklaus' psyche fallen into place – the way Niklaus brandishes those daggers. She learned long ago that if she cannot dagger or kill Klaus, then at least she can hurt him, at least she can make him feel a fraction of what she feels every time he drives a dagger into one of their heart. Maybe later her heart will break for the brother they once knew, the way Elijah's is now. Elijah cannot imagine what to do now, as tears begin to fall from Klaus' eyes. He's doing a good job, slinking back into the shadows so they will not see, but Elijah knows, he always knows, except how to help his brother – not really. How can he make Niklaus see the vision he has for him, a future where he loves his daughter without the millennia of baggage they carry with them everywhere. Where Niklaus learns what a father is supposed to be like – a man who loves, who protects, instead of one who singles Niklaus out as a problem and a mistake and hunts him around the globe until only paranoia and loneliness exist in a man who used to be so gentle.

"Has history taught you nothing? We don't abandon you, Nik, you drive us away," Rebekah is saying, and maybe Elijah underestimated her, a moment ago. Maybe she doesn't just want to cause Niklaus pain; perhaps she wants to knock some sense into him. At least Rebekah's words give him pause, instead of driving him further into a spiraling rage.

He lowers the dagger at last, defeated. Elijah notices that there is still blood on Niklaus' hands and his neck, where he missed it when cleaning himself up. "Is that so?" he asks, and it feels like a genuine question – not a trap, not Klaus trying to get them to rise to his bait. "What have I done lately, other than cooperate?" he continues, his voice breaking a little. "Bow down to you, brother, to make up for daggering you?" Tears begin to fall from Klaus' eyes in earnest now. After all this time, after everything Niklaus has done, it hurts Elijah to see his brother hurt, to fight against his own nature of self-preservation, against his fear and his pride, and try to apologize, in his own way. "For the greater good of our plan, to reclaim our home!" Klaus continues, and there is no point trying to stop him. All Elijah can do is wait, listen, pretend that this display doesn't gut him, that after a thousand years of Niklaus lashing out in just this way, Elijah would choose the dagger every time.

Klaus turns on Rebekah, who stiffens, letting her brother drag her through the mud, her choices, her foolish, lovesick heart. Her choice of Marcel over him has been dragging behind the both of them for over a century. "He controls the empire that we built! That he took!" he says of Marcel. He takes a deep rattling breath. His cheeks are wet with tears he doesn't know are there, or won't acknowledge. "In the one moment you could have chosen to stand by me, to believe in me, and believe that my intentions for my child were pure," he chokes out, his jaw locked in an anger the Elijah has never seen his brother contain. In his own way, Elijah figures, this is an apology and a desperate cry for one of them, maybe both of them, to tell him that he was justified in biting Elijah, for stranding them in bayou and then tearing Marcel's vampires to shreds. That he would be justified in daggering both of them, and leaving them in coffins until his child is grown. That the fact that he isn't, isn't just mercy – it's kindness, grace. Humanity.

Elijah feels something else, too. Shame. Deep, and dark, and slippery. He shouldn't have suggested, even for a moment, that Niklaus wanted anything more than family. It's all he's ever wanted, and it's all Elijah has ever wanted for him –a stranger, and an outcast even among family. It's why he made the hybrids in the first place. If Rebekah suffers now, for an accusation that two more seconds of thought would have shown him were absurd, it will be his fault, not Niklaus'.

"You decided to stand against me," Klaus continues, his voice going low, dangerous. In spite of all the shouting Niklaus has done over the centuries, Elijah knows he's at his angriest, most dangerous, most unpredictable like this, raw, exposed, quiet. "To stand with my enemies." Niklaus steps towards Elijah, gets right in his face. Elijah doesn't flinch, unwilling to give his brother that satisfaction, terrified what would happen if he showed him that he was afraid. "I wanted our home back," he breathes. "And now I have it, and I'm going to live there," he says, his voice shaking. "And the two of you can stay here together and rot."

Niklaus offers Elijah the dagger, his voice light, daring Elijah to protest. Elijah simply takes the dagger, looking away from Klaus, his tears, his fear playing so clearly on his face. If it makes Niklaus feel better, makes him feel that he's accomplished anything, Elijah will let his brother walk away. Guilt swallows him whole, as Klaus sniffs loudly, pushing past him and Rebekah, thundering down the stairs. Is he guilty for doing this to Klaus, for accusing him, for turning his back on him? For a perceived threat to his daughter, or his kingdom, or the girl, in spite of his insistence that he has no interest in pursuing Hayley?

Or is it something else, the old guilt, from a time he can barely remember. Guilt for things he knows, reasonably, he could not control. For not protecting him from Mikael, from Esther. From becoming the kind of man who sobs in hallways where his siblings cannot see him, but can very well hear him, and brandishes threats of violence in place of affection or love. There is fear there too, along with the guilt, that Elijah has finally pushed his brother too far. He is not ready to become a father, he is not in the kind of place where he can accept that responsibility of love, and it is Elijah who pushed this on him. He may very well become a worse father than Mikael ever was, and Niklaus knows this. It's why his voice trembles when he threatens Hayley outside. It's why he wipes his face of fresh tears before driving back into the city, to live in an empty home.

Rebekah breaks the suffocating silence, once they can no longer hear the sound of tires on pavement, the hum of the engine. "What are we supposed to do now?" She left her life in Mystic Falls to find Elijah, and she found both of them – and a werewolf with more fire than Niklaus knew how to handle. Whatever softening feelings towards Niklaus had appeared in the last few weeks, they were gone now, replaced with anger. "I can't believe him! Leaving us here, acting like we're the worst thing that has ever happened to this family! Like he –"

"Enough, Rebekah," Elijah sighs. He is tired. Tired from his run in with Niklaus' fangs, and almost getting daggered again, and having to stay and watch Klaus self-destruct over and over again in front of him, knowing that any assurance from either of them would only make it worse. Elijah let himself get distracted by Hayley, and Niklaus acted out, and Elijah is afraid that he will take it out on her, if either of them make a wrong move. He feels very much like he's back to walking on eggshells around his brother. He had thought, earlier this week, things were getting back to the way they were before they fled New Orleans a century ago. Klaus less explosive and more willing to follow Elijah's lead, more willing to let Elijah keep him in check instead of resisting.

Oh well, Elijah thinks. Back to the start, and not for the first time.

"Nik's insane, Elijah, I don't know why you let him speak to us like that, I don't know why you just let him take Hayley," Rebekah fumes. "He may not want to harm her now, but as soon as that baby is born, Hayley is in danger. And what if he changes his mind?"

"He won't," Elijah says, still staring at the place his car had been parked, feeling the weight of the dagger in his hands. What is he to do about his immortal little brother? He can do nothing but scold, and fear retribution. Elijah turns to face his sister and is shocked for a moment to see her crying, shaken from their encounter, or else heartbroken. Maybe she too, feels guilt for their brother's volatility, the way he's been chasing his tail for centuries, looking for something – anything – that will make him happy. Maybe they both could have done more. "For now, we must let him…cool off," he says, trying out the expression. It seems fitting for Klaus. "In a few days, maybe, he will want us. Until then, we must protect that child in any way that we can."

Rebekah heaves a dramatic sigh and Elijah smiles at her weakly. "You will do these things, brother, not I," she tells him pointedly. "I am tired of living my life for a man who only cares about me when I please him."

They both know that's an oversimplification of the problem at hand. After all, in this instance, Rebekah did try to lock him a way for the length of his child's life. Elijah squeezes her shoulders gently in comfort. "Well," he says dryly. "It is Christmas after all. I suppose I can let you have this one thing."

* * *

It's Christmastime, Klaus muses, and in spite of his feud with his siblings, it's not the worst he's ever had. He tries to pride himself on his lack of sentiment for human inventions like holidays, but Rebekah has always insisted that they try to be as human as possible. He wonders how that will change, when he is a father, if he will want to give his daughter traditions to fall back on, something to celebrate.

Although, it's likely that he won't live long enough to see his daughter's first Christmas, if Hayley has her way with him. If looks could kill. Klaus shakes his head, and puts on his most charming smile for her.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" she demands, snarls. She is always a little wolf-like. Angry and snapping at the heels of anyone she thinks she can defeat. It's funny that she thinks that she can take him. She slams her fists on his chest as he tries to sidestep her. He looks away as he winces in pain. "Killing all wolves? What will that accomplish?"

Anger blazes inside of Klaus for a moment, and he struggles not to grab Hayley by the throat and drag her outside. Precious cargo and all. "What it will _accomplish_ ," he snarls back, flicking Hayley's hands off of him. "Will be the end to this rumor your friend Tyler Lockwood started about how I don't care for my child. As I already explained, no werewolves means no hybrids, and all the witches and the vampires in the quarter can rest easy knowing that all I want for my child is for her to live."

"Without a pack?" Hayley wonders scathingly.

"She'll have _us_ ," he insists, frustrated with Hayley's allegiance to wolves over her child, over him. He is trying to protect her, to protect both of them. " _A family._ "

"Call off the vampires," she insists.

"No."

"Fine," she snaps. "I'll just go rescue them myself." Hayley whips around to leave, and Klaus moves to stop her, bracing her arms to keep her from moving.

He can hear the wild fear in his own voice when he speaks next. "You will do no such thing!" he shouts. "The vampires may not harm you, but if you go out there I cannot protect you. I cannot stop them from harming our child and making it look like an accident!" Hayley squares her shoulders and sets her jaw. She shrugs out of Klaus' death grip and glares at him, turns away, slamming up the stairs to her room.

* * *

"Niklaus," says Elijah's voice, muffled by sounds of the swamp and the static over the phone. "Come home."

"I am home," he answers automatically, still reeling from Elijah's accusations.

"Rebekah and I are in the bayou, rescuing some wolves," his brother continues, plowing ahead like he hasn't heard a word Klaus has said. It's one of Elijah's favorite moves when Klaus is being especially difficult. "It may appear you have been too hasty."

"And why is that?" Klaus asks. He's not really interested, and his laugh feels hollow even to him. "You have soft spot, suddenly, for wolves? Obviously not on my account." It's a touch more bitter than Elijah perhaps deserves, but he can't help it. A millennia denying Klaus' nature, ignore the plight of werewolves all over the world, and one pretty face later and he's undermining Klaus' rule.

"I will explain everything when we see you," Elijah gives as an answer, and he hangs up the phone. There's nothing for Klaus to do except wait around, wondering what Elijah could possibly mean or go back, face his brother and question him. The werewolves are turning out to be more trouble than they're worth, though they've never been worth much to him. And always a lot of trouble.

There is nothing to do here, since he moved all of their things into the compound with him. Only an old piano that desperately needs tuning.

It's probably a trap, he thinks, holding his mother's ring in his hand. After all, the only thing that woman ever did to him was hurt him, kill him, bind him. Elijah weaves him a story of a werewolf they rescued in the bayou, someone who is descended from the same pack as Klaus.

Elijah seems to mistake his reverie for vulnerability, a mistake he makes all too often. "I beseech you brother, please come home."

He looks up at his brother, standing over him and snarls. "What home? This pathetic substitute?" Elijah withdrawals. "In spite of all of your doubts, all of your attempts to thwart me, I have reclaimed our true home." His treacherous siblings come in speaking of true fathers, showing him a ring that belonged to a woman who hated him, a man who abandoned him and let Mikael ruin him, while he sleeps in his bed, in a home he built. He is proud of this, and his siblings still feel the need to belittle him. "I took back the entire city," he says, smiling at the ring. Every single member of his family has done nothing but get in his way, destroy whatever happiness they could, and so he has done this thing on his own. The fact that it makes Elijah bristle makes this victory even sweeter.

"You have the audacity to boast of your victory," Elijah says, toeing the line between noble indignation and personal, filthy rage. "When the mother of your child is remains your prisoner?"

"It all comes down to the pretty little wolf, doesn't it?" Klaus says, managing to not roll his eyes. His brother's affections are transparent and annoying, at least in this case. He cannot use Hayley against him, though Elijah seems to have no qualms of using her as leverage.

Rebekah is intervening before it can get ugly. A shame. He wishes to tell Elijah some lies he has demonstrated that he is all too eager to believe – that he will discard Hayley the moment his daughter is born, that he will use his daughter as a human blood bag. Maybe then Elijah will retaliate in a manner that he knows his brother thinks he deserves.

He pushes himself away from the piano. "I have had enough of family to last me a lifetime," he tells Elijah, brandishing the ring out in front of him. "Why on earth would I want anymore?" He leaves the ring on the top of the piano and stalks out of the room.

He's not sure what he'd do, without the anger. Probably break down in front of his family again, their apologetic stances and pleading words enough to make him give in. At least the anger is constant, the one thing he can always count on. Klaus stalks out the door, furious. He may as well go kill the werewolves himself, since it's them that have given him this anger. His one companion.

And regret, a little seed of it always just about to take root.

* * *

He knows Elijah is here visiting Hayley, but it does not stop the shock of seeing his brother again so soon. Annoyed at his presence, at what Klaus is sure is just another lecture coming from his brother. He bristles at the sound of Elijah stopping at the foot of the stairs.

"I accused you of having ulterior motives for your child," Elijah says. Klaus swallows, turns to look at Elijah. Something close to regret gets stuck in Klaus' throat, and he can't seem to manage to unstick it. Elijah pauses, takes a deep breath. "I was wrong. I'm sorry."

Klaus cannot think of the last time Elijah apologized. (Klaus cannot think of the last time any of Elijah's actions truly warranted an apology, either, or at least, weren't at least as bad as something that Klaus had no intention of apologizing for, but still, Elijah, deigning Klaus worthy of an apology. The miracles never cease.) He smiles a little, ignoring the stinging in his eyes. "I imagine that must have been hard for you to say," Klaus answers, not accepting or rejecting Elijah's apology outright. But still.

Elijah huffs a laugh. "You don't make it easy to love you brother," he says.

"And yet you are obstinate in your desire to do so."

Elijah doesn't say anything to that. The conversation is over. He might as well go, but as always, Elijah is standing there, waiting for him. Waiting for him to return the sentiment, waiting for him to let him go. Klaus is trying to pretend his ears aren't ringing with the sound of Elijah using that word. _Love._ As if he's worthy of it. As if he hasn't done everything in his power to push his siblings away. As if he knows that it's just what he needs. As if the only thing separating him from true happiness is Elijah's love.

"When you are ready, if you should be so inclined," Klaus says, tilting his head away from his brother so he will not see the tears forming in his eyes. He is not yet ready to admit, and certainly not ready to admit it to Elijah, that he has missed them, in the mere days that they have been apart. "Both you and Rebekah are welcome to join me here." He turns immediately, unwilling to know if Elijah will reject him again. If they do, he's not sure even his daughter will be able to save him.

* * *

Elijah stands, a little dumbstruck, watching his brother ascend the stairs to his bedroom, the one he lived in for nearly two centuries. It's the first moment since they've returned that he feels at home, that things may finally fall back into place.

He will move in tomorrow morning, with Rebekah. It will be good for all of them, to live under one roof again. And with Hayley, and the child when she is born.

There may be an end to his eternal quest in sight.

* * *

 **A/N: Traditionally, I tackle the theme of love for week two. But, uh, Elijah loves Klaus.**


	3. What Child Is This?

**A/N: 2x09 (also known as the Greatest Episode They Ever Made)**

* * *

 _December 2012_

Klaus isn't sure that he's ever been this happy before. Hayley is a livewire next to him, her arms folded across her body in the passenger seat, telling him about how she's going to save her pack. He's proud of her, taking her future, her people, into her own hands. His little wolf has come into her own as a hybrid, no longer unsure of her place in this world, and certainly not among the wolves. They've all been busy making the quarter a safe place for their daughter to live, and now they get to see her.

He hasn't spoken to Rebekah before now, since he gave up Hope to her, placed his daughter's tiny body in his sister's gracious arms. He's heard from Elijah that Hope is doing well, but they can't risk pictures, and Rebekah can't risk calling Klaus, because as far as anyone is aware, they're not on speaking terms.

The fact that Elijah is dealing badly with Esther's meddling is doing little to discourage either his or Hayley's anticipation, and joy. They're going to see Hope, they're going to hold Hope in their arms. Halfway to Arkansas, Hayley stops biting her nails long enough to turn on the radio, searching for stations through the static, until they land on some saccharine Christmas station, and Hayley leaves it, shrugging, like she doesn't enjoy it.

"Hope's first Christmas," Hayley breathes under her breath. Klaus looks at her from his peripheral vision. "Don't laugh at me," she warns. Klaus smiles, and Hayley does too. "We don't have to miss it," she says. She's relieved; they've missed so much – but there's still so much left. Hope's whole life is in front of them. The despair they felt over the summer dissipates with the Christmas bells as the grass around them turns brown in the cold.

"I'm proud of you, Hayley," Klaus says, in spite of himself. "For doing this, for your pack, for our daughter."

"I can't let the wolves stay under your mother's control," Hayley says, shaking her head. "This isn't a _sacrifice_ I'm making for Hope. This is her future. The wolves are her pack too."

Klaus tries to imagine a future for his child where she isn't ashamed of her ties to the wolves, where she can embrace that side of her the way Hayley has, where her daughter inherits the pack when Hayley has moved on. His parents terrorizing the city left behind in his rearview mirror seem trivial now. Elijah is right: he will vanquish them, and Dahlia too if need be. Suddenly, they're not just making the city safe for his daughter – they're building her legacy, her kingdom.

Gravel crunches underneath his tires, and Hayley tenses next to him, straining against the seatbelt, craning her neck to see into the house, to see her daughter, waiting for her – for them. The locks on the door click and Rebekah and Elijah and Hope – all bundled up and wearing something pink and frilly that Rebekah obviously picked out –are standing on the lawn, and Hayley is already out of the car before Klaus has brought the car to a full stop.

Elijah hands Hope to Hayley gingerly, as Klaus lags behind, suddenly unsure. Rebekah meets his gaze with a soft smile, trying to thank him for these months she's had with Hope, and Klaus tries to return the sentiment without drowning in the grief of his lost time. Elijah looks at Hayley and Klaus, standing far apart, and Hayley brings the baby closer. Klaus tries not to recoil from his daughter. This is the moment that he has been dreaming of for months, for almost a year, and now that it's here – he is terrified that he cannot do this, afraid his touch is as destructive as he's always believed.

Hayley is cooing at Hope, whose big wolf-eyes – eyes like Hayley's – watch her parents with curious trepidation. Hope settles into Klaus's arms before he's even really prepared for her weight. He skin is warm and soft, her eyes clear as she looks at Klaus. She seems to recognize him as her father – a strange experience to be looked upon as father with love, not fear. Hayley's one hand is still clutched in Hope's fist, and her other is a shock up and down Klaus's spine as it rests on his back.

There is fear here, too, beneath the joy that they both feel, beneath the love. Now that he holds his daughter, the fear dissipates, a release like a hand releasing his heart. Hope. Hope smiling at him and Hayley, her cheeks pink in the cold. So alive, so human. Hope dispelling a thousand years' worth of fear. Klaus presses a kiss to Hope's forehead, slow steady, deliberate, terrified of her soft skull, her tiny hands and impossibly small fingers, that he is going to drop her, hurt her, or worse. But there is this moment – this moment where Hope is his, alive, happy, and not afraid of him, and for all his fear, he is no longer afraid of her.

He stays there, unwilling to part from his daughter. Hayley warm at his side, looking over his shoulder at their daughter, heartbeat uneven with her own joy and fear. "Okay," Rebekah says as Hope starts to fuss. She takes Hope from Klaus's arms. "It's time for someone's nap." Klaus tries not to feel so exposed without his daughter, his sister, Hayley following close behind, ignores the stinging in his eyes.

"Niklaus." Elijah's voice is loud and clear over his daughter fussing in the house. He turns away from his brother, from the house, steadying himself, afraid if he looks at his brother, sees Elijah's psyche crumbling before his eyes, he'll lose whatever grip he's got on his fear, his love for his daughter. "Look at me, Niklaus," Elijah says, his voice commanding. He is uncomfortably reminded of his mother – the first time she crawled her way back from hell. He looks at his brother, lifting his chin to him – defensive against whatever Elijah has in store for him. "Why are you here?" he asks carefully, looking past him. "Rebekah and I can protect Hope. You are needed in the city. Finn –"

"Brother," Klaus interrupts. "My daughter and you are here." He sighs. "Rebekah called me. She was worried. And – it's time. Hayley needed to see Hope. "I –" His voice breaks. "I needed to see her. Hope." From here, he can hear Hope's heartbeat as she falls asleep. Elijah concedes, but Klaus can still feel his agitation at being handled. He takes more pleasure in it than he knows is proper – the tables have truly turned. "Besides, we need to talk. It appears that it's more than just your psyche that's crumbling down around us."

"Niklaus –" Elijah protests, and looking at him, Klaus thinks he looks fine looks fine, a little beleaguered perhaps, but otherwise the very picture of stability.

But he has no time to argue with Elijah, no matter how much fun it might be fun, since Rebekah and Hayley are returning from putting Hope down. Rebekah seems to have loaded Hayley's arms with firewood and calls to her brothers for them to carry some too. Niklaus obliges his sister wearily, trying to intermittently explain the danger they now face.

"Dahlia?" Hayley asks. It's clear that she is growing weary of their ever expanding family drama.

"The fable is over a thousand years old," Elijah points out reasonably. "Dahlia is long dead." Klaus scoffs, watching Rebekah layer the firewood higher and higher. His fingers twitch, fighting the desire to rip the bonfire Rebekah has been building to pieces.

"Like your mother?" Hayley points out, reading Klaus's mind. It's equally as reasonable, given that Klaus has killed his mother not once but twice already, and his very dead brothers are in his home right now inhabiting the bodies of local witches, and a long-dead sister apparently never died at all. It seems the only member of their family who isn't adept at escaping death was Henrik.

Klaus growls, frustrated with his family's inability to understand that the danger Hope faces is meaningless if they would all just listen to him. Once Esther and her minions are dealt with, they will have nothing left to fear, unless Rebekah is set on sending Esther a beacon with her bloody bonfire.

"No one is going to hurt Hope, because no one is going to find her," Klaus declares, as Rebekah adds another log to the pit. "That's enough wood, Rebekah," he barks. "You're going to burn down the whole bloody state of Arkansas."

She smiles slyly at him. "Well, we're just missing one key ingredient," Rebekah says, her smile widening to look at Elijah, eyes glinting mischievously.

"No we're not," Klaus dismisses, crossing his arms. Even as a child, this particular tradition annoyed him, struck him as silly and frivolous; as vampire he wanted nothing except what was out of his reach. Now he's got it.

"I suspect Niklaus would rather choke on the ashes," Elijah laughs, smiling at them both. Rather condescending for a man who recently slaughtered an entire truck stop in front of Klaus's six-month-old daughter.

"What are you talking about?" Hayley wonders. She is transformed since holding her daughter in her arms. Accepting ancient Mikaelson traditions left and right just as she is about to leave them, her eyes lighting up as Rebekah explains how they write their wishes and burn them in the bonfire. "Hope's first bonfire season. I like it!" she says, matching Klaus's eyes, smiling at his discomfort. "We're doing it."

She spins on her heel away from the bonfire, and Klaus looks away from all of them, staring into the sky, feeling normal, it seems, less like the world is collapsing around them. He can feel his brother and sister's eyes on him, laughing at him. Let them laugh. Rebekah says something to Elijah, clasps her hand around his arm comfortingly and takes off after Hayley to look for more Christmas decorations, but she passes Klaus on her way to the house to press a kiss to his cheek. The action so normal, so affectionate, he can forget for a moment the centuries that drag behind them. He feels like a normal brother, with his normal sister and his normal daughter, enjoying a normal Christmas together – not fleeing his deranged family.

When Hope wakes from her nap Klaus is by her side the instant she does. She looks up at him with wonder, but no fear, and pulls herself up to sit and smiles at him. "Hi, Hope," Klaus says softly, reaching into her crib and cradling her in his arms. She burrows her face in his chest and coos.

Rebekah has put on an old jazz album; it's playing in the kitchen, where he sits with Hope. He can hear Hayley and Rebekah and Elijah laughing in the other room, and maybe Klaus would have been jealous once, but it's hard to feel anything but joy with his daughter in his lap. She laughs and smiles. She looks like Hayley, and like his mother, from long ago, when he could look at his mother r and not feel anger, betrayal, shame, grief.

Hayley walks into the kitchen, holding a notepad, a pencil, a smirk on her lips. She smacks the notepad down on the table.

"I am holding a small child, Hayley," he says, turning his attention back to his laughing daughter. "This silly wish game will have to wait." Her small child, too, for that matter. Her very happy small child. Klaus remembers her greatest fear was that he would not be an active parent. Well – here's to proving her wrong. In fact, she should be overjoyed at his involvement. Besides, what could he wish for, except for the death of his parents and to never let Hope go again?

"I'll hold, you write," Hayley suggests. Persistent. Stubborn.

Klaus bites down on the irritation. It's been six months since he has been able to hold his child, and now Hayley is trying to steal his precious time with her for a game he thought ridiculous as a child. "You do realize it's not me who is to be the husband for you to boss around," he huffs without looking away from Hope.

He hears Hayley huff. "You do realize I had to endure horrendous labor and actual death to birth the child you're holding," she says, and even though her tone is light, Klaus remembers all too well – holding Hayley's broken body in his arms mere minutes after he thought Hope was lost to them forever. She's right of course, and Klaus suspects that Hayley will be able to lord that over him forever. And forever is going to be a very long time. He hands his daughter over to her, rolling his eyes lightly.

She shifts Hope to her hip to watch Klaus write his wish. "I wish," Klaus says, taking the pad of paper. "You would tell Elijah you're marrying your werewolf suitor, at which point I'll pour him a scotch and congratulate him on the bullet he dodged." He smiles up at Hayley his most devilish grin to know he's mostly joking. In a lot of ways, he's met that his match in Hayley, and she is slowly driving him insane. She rolls his eyes and snatches the paper from his hands, crumpling it up and taking it and his daughter outside to where Elijah has started the bonfire.

Klaus can only smile. If only it could always be like this.

* * *

 **A/N but quieter this time: the theme this week would normally be joy (Gaudete Sunday and All That. We sure are happy about miracle babies this week) so the other half of this - and the conclusion of the episode - just kind of. don't matter to the story that i'm trying to tell. also. klaus is sooo hard to write.**


	4. Joy to the World

**3x09 (which I made to be christmas eve instead of christmas because Reasons)**

* * *

 _December 2013_

This year, Niklaus does burn a wish. He doesn't tell Rebekah what it is, but she peaks over his shoulder as he folds it up and throws it into the flames that it says something about her staying. He doesn't react when she reaches out to rub his arm, so he must think his wish is private, secret, like his wishes for Hope, for Hayley, for Elijah. No one must know the gentle creature that still lurks somewhere inside of the monster the centuries have created.

Later, he's sandwiched between Camille and Hayley, with the baby on his lap, showing Hope the presents he's gotten for her. There will be more tomorrow, on Christmas, and she looks up at him with interest, perhaps even adoration. His hand cups around her head, feeling her soft hair underneath his fingertips. Rebekah remembers that feeling, the weight of Hope on her lap, her skin beneath her fingers. After a millennia, she wasn't sure she would ever feel something so wonderful again, but being with Hope – it made her feel like a new woman, it made her feel joy. Klaus only has eyes for his daughter, in spite of the two women on either side of him, twisting around to keep their eyes on Hope. Every so often, Camille looks up at Klaus then over at Hayley. To her credit, she seems neither threatened by Hayley nor afraid of Niklaus, two things Rebekah isn't sure she'd be able to say about herself in Camille's situation. Hayley fingers are wrapped around Klaus's wrist in a sign of affection that neither she nor Klaus will ever be able to articulate. Though Rebekah is the one who said it best: even when she hates him, she still loves him. It seems Hayley has slotted right into this family, loving and hating Niklaus in equal measure.

Klaus looks up at her from across the room and smiles at her, inviting Rebekah to join the party of watching Hope, the harem of his favorite women all grouped around him, but Rebekah sighs and shrugs; she has to be going before anyone – Aurora, Tristan, even Marcel – find out she's even missing. She heads up the stairs to her room to grab her coat, passing Elijah and Freya on the way. She thinks of Klaus's sad eyes and wary smile, and thinks of her wish, now ashes in the rafters: _Let Niklaus find peace._

It seems silly that this year – with enemies and prophecies and doom around them she would wish for this, but this is all she's ever wished for, really. She has a laundry list of things she wants out of her own life – love, a family of her own, to bring Kol back from the dead, but she knows that none of these are obtainable before Klaus finds his own peace. For a thousand years their lives have revolved around one another, and even now that his happiness is found elsewhere, somewhere precious to all of them, Rebekah's not sure that she or Elijah will ever be happy if Niklaus is not.

And more than that – Niklaus is her brother, and when he smiles at Hope, when he smiles at Camille, even the few moments of affection he and Hayley share, she sees the brother who loved art and music, the brother who wanted to protect her from the evils in the world. The brother not ruined by Mikael. The brother Elijah has spent a thousand years fighting for. She sees someone better – someone who is strong enough to stand up to any enemy for his daughter, who can face the worst parts of himself if it means protecting Hope. Niklaus has been more tortured than she has – she and Elijah both have found moments of happiness, of solace, of peace. It's been a thousand years, perhaps longer than they've been vampires, since Nik has known any of that.

Or it had been.

He kisses her on the cheek, his desperate "You're always leaving," only a little resentful and a little hurt. Mostly like he knows that she'll be back before he knows it, that it's not about him. Her possessive, paranoid brother seems to have been replaced overnight with a gracious, teasing, and protective one. They have his daughter to thank for that.

"I always come back," she assures him, and he smiles.

"Run far and fast," he says. "And if you should happen to meet some handsome fool, know your weaknesses."

Rebekah chuckles. For once, Niklaus is truly joking, perhaps warming up to Rebekah having a life outside of himself. "Perhaps it's time for our roles to be reversed," she muses, squeezing his hand. He starts at the suggestion. "I'll run from love –" her niece and her sister and her brothers and Hayley. "If you run towards it." Klaus sighs and looks over her shoulder to where Cami is standing. Rebekah hears her heart jump a little and Klaus looks back at his sister, alarmed, but he nods at her. Understood. He deserves a chance to be happy. They all do.

"Stop the car," Rebekah swears. She's already halfway out the cab before the driver can pull over, buttoning her coat and pulling out her phone.

"You okay, miss?" he asks, but Rebekah shrugs, pays the fare and offers no further explanation. It's not until the taxi's tires are squealing away from her that she regains some semblance of composure – no longer wracked with bloodlust and unbearable rage. An itching in her arms. She swears and lifts up her coat sleeve to see the mark growing back.

Quick. "Elijah," she hisses into the phone. It goes to voicemail but he'll get it soon enough just the same. "I need you to meet me somewhere. Fast. Don't tell anyone you're going."

She hangs up, texts him the address of the closest place she thinks is halfway between them, and waits. It's cold, her breath crystalizing in the air in front of her eyes. It feels deceptively human, the way their bodies react to the cold without really feeling it. And she feels human now, waiting on this street corner for her brother to come and find her. She knows that no one could take advantage of her if they tried, but she still feels more vulnerable than she's felt in centuries, terrified of the next passerby who rounds the corner.

It's Elijah, and Rebekah breathes a sigh of relief. He smiles weakly when he sees her. "Rebekah?" he says, both happy to see her so soon and terrified of what she has to say. "I got your message."

"I was halfway to the airport when I suddenly got the urge to rip out my taxi driver's throat," Rebekah explains, lifting up her sleeve for Elijah to see the damage.

"No," says Elijah – not about the mark. He's already ahead of her, guessed somehow why she's asked him to meet her out here in secret. "Freya can try something else." There is desperation behind his eyes, not just her sensible older brother, trying to make the best out of a bad situation. She forgot to ask for Elijah's happiness for Christmas, she realizes. She forgot to wish for her own.

"What if we run out of time?" Rebekah argues, thinking of the long road ahead of her, the airplane food and empty hotel rooms. "I already went after Hayley. Who's next? Freya herself? Hope?" Elijah stops. Ridiculous to imagine any of them doing anything to hurt Hope, but that's just what this mark seems to do. "And if even she can –" Rebekah says, looking away from Elijah, feeling in her pocket for the dagger. She needs him to do this for her, but she can't bear to ask. She used to hate Niklaus for daggering them, for stealing time away from them as easy as if it were nothing, how it felt like what she assumed dying felt like. But this silver dagger – it's better than the one Aya stuck her with, better than the bottom of the ocean. It's certainly better than running. Even when she ran with her brothers, it was a close call between a coffin and the road. She'll be all alone now. Away from the place her brothers are trying to make a home, in spite of continued complications.

"You don't want to run," Elijah says weakly. His eyes are brimming with tears.

"You know I always hated it." Elijah manages a smile. She pulls the dagger from her pocket, handing it to Elijah. He won't take it. "Hide my body," she instructs. "And don't tell a soul." A protest is forming on Elijah's lips, but he seems too stunned to say a word. "Especially not Niklaus, let him be happy just for once." Elijah's sighs, choking back a sob. If they hadn't spent a thousand years together, she thinks she wouldn't have noticed it. He's better at hiding his tears than Klaus. "This is our burden to bear, yours and mine." Elijah grasps the dagger loosely, he nods, but he won't do it. She can see it in his eyes. He hasn't got it in him to dagger her. "When the year of the prophecy is over you can undagger me, have Freya work out a cure." The dagger is in Elijah's hand, but he's backing away from her. Resisting her. "Elijah, if we embrace the prophecy, maybe we can control. The family part is over and you can trust Klaus again!" The curse of this mark is coursing through her again. She can feel it like a poison. She takes the dagger, presses the tip to her breast. Elijah lets go. Looks away from her. "Do it, Elijah!" She digs the dagger a little deeper. "Do it!" She presses her fist and the dagger into his open hand. His falls so neatly and perfectly around hers. But he won't. He can't. A trait not all of her brothers seem to share. A shame that the one time she does want a dagger in her chest she can't get one of her brothers to do it. She's sure it would break him. It might just break Elijah. "Do it!"

Elijah meets her eyes, apologizing, promising to keep this secret. This Christmas, Niklaus gets to be happy. His daughter, Hayley and Elijah on his side. Thinking Rebekah is out there, somewhere, curse free and living her life to the fullest in a way she couldn't with him by her side. She can feel Elijah's arms around her as she collapses into darkness.

If Niklaus' happiness is their burden to bear, they've both born willingly for centuries. They can do it happily for another few months.

* * *

 **A/N: Lazy? Perhaps! Important! (Perhaps!) The way that this scene plays out is destroying me. Just me, out here, treating the originals like it's worthy of close reading.**


End file.
